Fuel for change, finally at hand

I drink strong black tea all day long. My new office is far far from the kitchen, at the distant end of a room lovingly referred to as the bowling alley. Problem.

After several weeks of tea-less hell, I remembered my English grandmother's solution: the electric teakettle. Walgreens across the street was out (and icky), thrift stores turned up nothing, and there was little chance of getting me out of the city and into a department store.

Ebay to the rescue. In a fit of tea-needing, I bid on four lovelies and (oops) won them all. This one leaked, which broke my heart a little because I loved the tattoo-like bird design AND whistling bird lid. This chrome deco one is filled with vinegar, working off years of mineral build up. This one remains untested, because the fourth, my Whistle While You Wait kettle is so very dreamy. I am dizzy with mid-century ceramic bliss. It boils, it whistles, it's ever so speedy.

Vintage electric teakettles=highly recommended. And likely also dangerous, with hit and miss vintage wiring. Yay.